


Healing is Nonlinear, But I’ll Pave the Path Straighter

by Ralli



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Found Family, Gen, Healing, Hot Chocolate, Mild Gore, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attacks, The Prison, Therapy (mentioned), Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), awesamdad, the mentioned characters are only for now :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29720331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralli/pseuds/Ralli
Summary: Tommy has been through so much, and it shows.~~~~My take on awesamdad.
Relationships: Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit
Comments: 51
Kudos: 622
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmmmm. Technically this isn’t finished. It got long enough that I felt it would be too bulky if i added all the scenes i had in mind, like awesamdad vrs (bad) dadza.

There’s a few things Sam will always hold onto. Number one: his mother’s hot chocolate recipe. Number two: The day he first joined the Dream SMP. And number 3: The look on Tommyinnit’s face right now. This huge smile, childlike glimmer in his eyes. 

His mouth is running a mile a minute, something about how he’s going to build a hotel and he wants to hire Sam to do it. Sam admires his motives, a place for everyone without a home. It’s noble, and Sam can get behind it. He only makes Tommy pay because he gets the sense Tommy won’t trust that he’d do it out of the kindness of his heart. Too many people have been kind to him for their own purpose. Once bitten, twice shy, accept Tommy’s been bitten so much more than once. His enduring kindness is layered under this thick blanket of trauma. It’s been scarred into this poor boy that kindness gets taken advantage of. 

He saw it in the prison, and he’s seeing it now. The layers are miles thick. Tommy’s entire stance changes around adults, regardless of who. It’s a tense, anxious way of holding himself. He doesn’t have that around people his age, not Tubbo or Ranboo. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Tommy’s trust in adults is so utterly broken. He’s tense around Sam and Sam has never done anything to hurt Tommy. 

Tommy’s constantly bouncing on his feet when he’s not stiff as a board, as if he’s ready to bolt or fight. The first thing he does when he approaches someone is search for exits, eyes darting quickly at his surroundings. Tommy adds the protection clause to their contract without realizing Sam would rather die than let anything else happen to Tommy. 

Sam starts to pick up on the differences between bad days and good days. Tommy’s ridiculously good at hiding when he’s hurting, but there are always signs. Fidgeting, particularly running his fingers over his armor, like he needs to feel it to know it’s there. Sam doesn’t want to pry, but he can’t help but wonder if it’s just checking he’s safe in armor or something more. 

It’s on one of these bad days Sam makes his first mistake. Coincidently, he also gets an answer to his question in the worst way possible. He walks up to Tommy, who’s leaning against his fenced off hotel land, and starts his usual Tom Nook impersonation. He sees Tommy jump, his hands springing to clasps of his armor as he turns. Then there’s a pile of armor at his feet and Tommy with his hands up over his face like he expects to be hit. 

It takes him a moment to catch up, fingers slowing to a halt on his communicator. Tommy is dead silent, like he’s not even breathing. His eyes look far away. 

First step is to step back. Just a short one, he wants to be close in case he needs to catch Tommy, who’s knees are shaking now. 

“Tommy, you’re ok. It’s me, Sam. You’re ok, you can take your armor back,” He starts. “Can you hear me?” 

The boy doesn’t respond beyond gently sinking to the ground. He’s whimpering softly in the back of his throat, tears brimming. 

“Tommy? Tommy. You’re safe. Can you hear me?” Sam tries again. 

This time, Tommy nods. It’s slight but Sam is so attentive right now he probably would notice if Tommy so much as twitched. 

“Ok, good. That’s good. Can you tell me where you are?” 

That gets a ‘no’. 

“That’s ok, that’s alright. You’re safe right now at your hotel, that’s what matters. Can you focus on your breathing?” 

A nod and a shuddering breath, rattling through Tommy’s body. He takes another, and another, following a pattern Sam doesn’t recognize. 

“You’re doing so good. Can I touch you? Like just rest my hand on your knee?” Sam asks. 

A nod. Sam very deliberately as slowly places his hand on Tommy’s knee, hovering for a second to make it clear he’s not going to hurt Tommy. 

“Can you feel this?” Sam asks. 

Tommy nods jerkily, taking another breath, holding it and then releasing it. 

“Describe it to me? What can you feel? It doesn’t just have to be my hand.” 

With the next breath Tommy croaks, “Warm, ‘t’s warm. And the grass is cold and wet.” 

“Well, it did rain the other day. Alright, what can you see, just list a few things.” 

“You, the hotel, bloodvines, my-my armor.” He stumbles over that last word and breaths in again. 

“Ok, what about what you can smell? Can you smell anything?” Sam coaxes. 

“Gun powder,” is Tommy’s immediate answer. “I don’t like it.” 

Sam knows for a fact that he smells like plants and mud, and concrete, and that nothing around has gunpowder on it, so he wonders if Tommy is stuck in a memory. “Anything else?” 

“Gr-grass. Uhm.” 

“It’s ok if you can’t find anything else, you’re doing great so far,” Sam encourages. “Can you taste anything? Just one thing is ok.” 

“Lunch, uh. carrots, golden carrots,” Tommy says. His eyes look a lot more focused and suddenly he’s Tommy again instead of hollow and haunted. 

“Thank you so much. Do you feel better?” 

Tommy nods before slumping further down, clearly exhausted. “Thanks, Sam Nook.” 

“Do you want to call it a day and head home? Take some time to fully calm down?” Sam offers, clearly stating it as Tommy’s choice, no matter how badly he wants to scoop the kid up and bring him to his bed. 

“No... Home doesn’t feel safe anymore,” Tommy admits quietly. “Lots of people have messed with it.” 

“Ok. Would you like to head back to my base? You can see Fran and stay the night if you’d like.” 

Tommy looks like he’s about to refuse before tears well up again and he just nods, looking every bit a stressed out sixteen year old. The urge to hide Tommy away until he’s better rises in Sam’s chest. 

Sam picks the armor up to hand it to Tommy, keeping his motions slow and clear. Tommy is clearly fragile today. His leg is bouncing from where he’s slumped and he’s obviously chewing on his lip. 

“Let’s do that then. What do you want to eat for dinner?” 

From that moment on, Sam let’s Tommy approach him first unless absolutely necessary, and then he makes his steps loud and clear and starts talking from a good ten feet away, to help Tommy recognize it’s him coming towards him.

It takes a lot of time and effort on Sam’s part to gain Tommy’s trust. The process on the hotel continues, and Sam adopts his ‘Sam Nook’ persona often, just because Tommy’s face lights up each time he hears the garbled video game dialogue sounds. Slowly but surely over the course of three weeks Tommy starts to relax around him more often. It takes even more weeks for him to fully trust Sam, but god is it worth it to see his boy healing. 

It starts with Tommy coming to him on his bad days. Whether it’s to work on the hotel as a distraction, or just straight to Sam’s base to have breakfast and cuddle with Fran. Sam teaches Tommy some redstone, who in turn builds Tubbo a piston door for his ‘secret’ vault. Sam couldn’t be prouder. He isn’t too caught up in praising his boy to notice Jack’s sneer in their direction. From behind his mask, he doesn’t think Jack realizes that he can see him. Sam tracks his face right to Tommy and instantly that protective instinct bubbles up. He offers Tubbo to have a sleep over at his base but Tubbo declines. He’s not worried for Tubbo though, not as much as he is for Tommy. Tubbo is well liked on the server. Tommy is not, excluding Tubbo and Sam. 

He doesn’t bring it up with Tommy because yet another adult out to get him might undo all the progress he’s made. He’s still fragile, he still screams so loud at night sometimes and refuses to let anyone touch him but Tubbo and Sam.  _ He still tenses around adults _ . It’s clear to Sam Tommy is not ready. You don’t heal completely from the things Tommy has been through in a month and a half. 

A little nagging part of his brain says that not telling Tommy might get him hurt, but he shuts it down. He’ll be fine. Jack seems to like Tubbo and Sam makes the judgement call that he wouldn’t want to hurt Tubbo by hurting Tommy. And if he did hurt Tommy, then nothing in the whole world would stand between Sam’s trident and Jack’s chest. 

He leaves it be. This is his second mistake. 

Tommy comes to the hotel work site one day, clearly on a bad day, probably the worst in a while. He’s trembling, just barely on his feet. The bags under his eyes are so deep he looks gaunt. He hunches in on himself and tenses the moment he’s stood still in front of Sam. 

“Sam!” He starts, his usual enthusiasm is strained. This doesn’t seem like one of the days where Tommy will admit to struggling. Sometimes, he’s uncomfortable being vulnerable around anyone and Sam doesn’t take it to heart, ever. It’s not Sam’s presence, it’s the fact that Tommy’s healing and this is what it takes for his boy to heal. 

“How are you today, Tommy?” Sam asks, at least giving Tommy a chance to open up if he wants to. 

Tommy smiles weakly. Before he can properly respond someone is shouting over the fence. Tommy flinches hard, and Sam leans over to see Jack, leaning against the wood and waving. 

“Hey, Sam! Sam!” Jack starts. He spouts on about how he’s flat broke and wants to work at building the hotel, but Sam is only half listening. Tommy is slowly deteriorating in front of him, keeping his back to Jack, but his eyes on him over his shoulder. Sam can tell he’s trying to act normal. Something is up. Call it a gut feeling; something isn’t right here. 

“I’m currently under hire by Tommyinnit, so I’ll have to talk to him first,” Sam says coldly. 

He gently coaxes Tommy further away without touching him. They get into the first layer of the hotel, hidden mostly from Jack’s view. Tommy is full on shaking now, face pale and breathing short. Tommy closes his eyes and slides down one of the red concrete walls. 

“Do you remember your breathing techniques?” Sam asks gently. 

Tommy nods, and starts breathing in and out in his timed patterns. Sam holds out a hand for Tommy to take if he wants to. Tommy eyes his hand before gently reaching out and grabbing it tight. 

“You can squeeze my hand if you need to,” Sam allows. 

Tommy nods sharply. He breathes in, and he breathes out. Sam’s hand gets squeezed three times in quick succession. Another breathing pattern and another three squeezes. It’s not what Sam was expecting when he said Tommy could squeeze his hand, but he’s not going to question it. After the third time, Sam squeezes back the same and Tommy sucks in a deep breath. For a moment, Sam worries he messed up, but then Tommy gives him a watery smile. 

“You doing ok now, Tommy?” 

A nod. Tommy swallows roughly, “Y-yeah. I think Jack’s a wrongen.” 

“You don’t have to work with him if you think so,” Sam says gently. 

“He said he was broke, though. I don’t want him to go hungry,” Tommy mutters. 

There’s that everlasting kindness Tommy hides from everyone. “He’s an adult, he can take care of himself. You don’t owe him anything. If he makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to put up with him.” 

“I know, I know. I don’t want to be selfish.” Tommy tilts his head onto his knees. 

“It’s not selfish. It’s not like Jack doesn’t have other people he can rely on,” Sam assures. “You are the most selfless person I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, Tommy. Your concern proves it.” 

“You’re not too awful to know either,” Tommy jokes softly. 

Sam chuckles. “Do you want a hug?” 

Tommy opens his arms and pushes himself towards Sam, who’s ready to catch him before he even finishes his question. They hold there for a few seconds before Tommy abruptly pulls away mumbling something snarky. Jack’s yelling starts up again from outside, asking if they’re still there. 

“You want to stay here while I refuse Jack?” Sam asks. 

Tommy shakes his head no. “Of course not, big man. I’m the boss, I’ll kick him to the curb myself. Your job is to look scary and intimidatin’. In case he refuses, y’know?” 

Sam smiles and nods. “Don’t forget to put your hard hat on. Also work jeans are now required.” 

“Awww, c’mon Saaaam. Really?” Tommy whines. 

Sam nods and types into his communicator: SAFETY FIRST, TOMMYINNIT. PLEASE WEAR THE CORRECT SAFETY EQUIPMENT WHILE ON THE BUILDSITE. He handed Tommy a pair of jeans and walked out of the half built building to give Tommy a moment to collect himself. For a moment he wonders what that hand squeeze pattern must have meant to Tommy. 

~~~~~

Tommy had been doing great, from what Sam could see. The progress on the hotel is going smoothly, supplies steadily trickling in from the little tasks he gives his kid. Today Sam has him collecting spruce, disregarding the complaining on Tommy’s end about how oak is so much better. He makes a mental note to include oak as well in the room plans. If it makes Tommy happy, he’s all for it. 

Tommy messaged him something about heading far away with Niki because she ‘swears there’s good spruce trees here’. Sam tries not to be too anxious, knowing how Tommy can be around adults. Niki is trustworthy though, Tommy once confessed over eggs on toast that Niki is like a big sister to him. Sam tries to ignore the bad feeling in his gut as Tubbo starts a countdown to… something. He’s heard whispers (you don’t have a job running a prison without both ears open) of nukes, something he vaguely recalls from history textbooks as being the most dangerous weapon made by man. 

He really hopes it’s not nukes. He also hopes Tommy is nowhere near them. 

Like always, his gut feeling is correct. He gets a frantic message from Niki, apologies and coordinates mixed in with spelling errors. Niki is a slow typer, but with how fast the messages are coming in she must be speeding to type. He sees Tommy’s name, butchered spelling but still recognizable and it’s like a while opens up below him as his stomach drops. 

Sam dumps as many potions as he can fit into his inventory from his enderchest and takes off by trident, worry seizing his chest. Tommy better be alright, or Sam isn’t sure what’s going to happen but it won’t be good. He’s joked with Tommy about his villian arc, insisting that the worst he’d do would be to put too much mustard on Tommy’s sandwich, but that’s the very least of what Sam could and would do if something happened to his son (he wonders exactly when Tommy became his son. he can’t quite remember). 

He hits the ground hard at the location, his knees buckling into the bucket of water he placed moments earlier. No damage caused but the aftershock makes his teeth hurt. Someone is crying hard, and there’s these wet gasping sounds that don’t sound like the same person. 

“Niki?” Sam calls out; the sobbing ceases momentarily. “I got your message, what happened to Tommy?” 

The sobbing behinds anew, with even more vigor than before. “O-ov-er he-re.” 

Sam stumbles his way forward, boots sinking in the powdery snow, and rounds a tree to the worst sight he’s ever seen. Niki is leaning up against a tree, tears running down her face as she cradles Tommy. His boy is bloody, bleeding from his eyes, ears, mouth, nose, and it’s all too much blood. His shirt is almost entirely red now. 

Sam’s breath catches in his throat and he jerks himself forward, sinking up to his ankles in the thick snow with each step. “Tommy!” 

He’s by his son’s side in a matter of moments. “Tommy, Tommy, hold on, I’m here.” 

Sam fumbles with potions, reading labels twice to make sure and gently lifting Tommy off Niki’s lap. Almost instantly Tommy groans, barely moving. Niki’s pants are stained deep red from where Tommy laid. 

“Hey, bud, here. I need you to drink this, ok? I’m sorry I don’t have any splash potions but you have to drink this,” Sam instructs, shaking hands holding the lip to his kid’s mouth. 

Tommy jerks a bit, gurgling until his eyes focus in on Sam. His blue eyes held so much pain, and Sam tips the potion up a bit, only for Tommy to cough it up with more blood. 

“No, no. Drink this, Tommy please. Please. I know it hurts right now but you have to drink this,” Sam starts panicking. Tommy is very limp, very cold and probably in shock. “Ok. Ok. I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. Would you please drink this, please!” 

He tips it further and even though the sound Tommy’s throat makes when he swallows roughly will haunt him in his nightmares there’s a wave of relief as he starts to take more of the potion with more ease. Sam is shaking harder, crying into his mask right now. It’s too hot under there. He can’t take his hands away from Tommy to remove it. 

The first potion is the most difficult, the next two are easier. He hesitates at a fourth one, since Tommy’s veins are glowing soft magenta already from under his skin. Too much of anything is a bad thing. He’s just happy Tommy is alive. 

“Ok, thank you Tommy, I’m proud of you for getting those down. I need you to stay awake for a bit ok? Can you do that for Sam Nook, please?” Sam can’t help but babble, to fill the awful silence that would otherwise only be filled by Niki’s tears. 

Tommy nods again, a little stronger. One of his hands slowly lifts up to grip at Sam’s, squeezing in that quick three burst pattern over and over again. 

Sam squeezes back after every time, still not sure what it means. “You’re gonna have to explain to me what that means, Tommy. When you’re all better you can tell me. And I’ll make hot chocolate and tell you all about my adventures when I first joined the SMP. But you gotta stay awake until the potions work.”

Tommy smiles at him, teeth bloody and eyes pained. “Ok.” 

Sam’s breath hitches again and he pulls Tommy carefully up higher, so he can rest his son’s head on his shoulder. With Tommy no longer blocking his view he can see Niki clearly now. 

“What happened?” He asks, softly. 

“The nuke. Tubbo was doing a test run today. Tommy was supposed to die when it went off,” she says quietly in between sobs. “He wasn’t supposed to be in pain before that. He wasn’t supposed to trust me so wholeheartedly.” 

Anger burns under Sam’s skin when he puts the pieces together. Niki led his son right into the path of a nuclear test. Niki meant to kill his boy, his son. The kid who has given everything for almost nothing in return, who can’t even meet Sam’s eye sometimes without having a panic attack. Who’s so fragile but so strong and who’s changed Sam’s life irreversibly. 

“After I know Tommy is safe, I’m arresting you,” he says coldly. “You will get a trial and a sentence and if I have anything to say about it, a spot in my prison.” 

Niki nods and cries harder. For some reason, Sam doesn’t think it’s for her own future. 

~~~~ 

As promised, Sam sets two mugs hot cocoa, made like his mother taught him, onto the table a week later. One in Tommy’s unofficially claimed seat, and one in his. Tommy is on crutches, one of his legs healed wrong from the potions and Sam doesn’t want to bring up that in order to fix it, it has to be broken again. He watches Tommy pick up the specially crafted items and tuck them under his arms. He lifts himself slowly off the couch, and Sam would offer to help if he hadn’t been turned down repeatedly already. 

“You weren’t kidding about the hot cocoa,” Tommy mutters, before gingerly lowering himself into the chair. 

“Didn’t know if you wanted whipped cream,” Sam offers in way of conversation. “Have you ever had hot cocoa before? I know it’s not a super common drink.” 

“Yeah, once. Phil made it a while back, for Tech’s tenth? tenth. birthday. It sucked, he forgot to add sugar,” Tommy says. 

“I promise I added sugar to this, and milk, and some cream and some cinnamon. Oh and the marshmallows are store bought so who knows what’s in them,” Sam jokes. 

Tommy snorts. “MSG and shit. You know I heard they put bone marrow in them.” 

“Nothing wrong with some marrow.” Sam lifts his mug and breathes in the smell of the cocoa, the cinnamon and it’s like his mother’s warm hands are squishing his face as she coos at him. He takes a small sip, pleased with how it came out. “Let me know what you think.” 

Tommy’s already got a foamy mustache. “Better than Phil’s, that’s for sure.” 

Sam smiles. “The hand squeeze thing.” 

Tommy pauses from drinking, “Yeah?” 

“What is it? I figured it meant something, but I don’t know what.” 

Tommy gives him this stare as his face starts to turn pink. “It’s something my family and I used to do. Means ‘I love you’ and some shit. One squeeze for each syllable. I-love-you. Have you seriously been returning that without knowing what it was?” 

Sam freezes for a moment. “I guess? I do love you though, Tommy. You’re family to me, now.” 

“You barely know me.” 

“I know that you’re a kid who’s grown up too fast and that I would do anything to make the end of your childhood better. Isn’t that enough to love you unconditionally like family does?” 

Sam pretended to not notice the tears falling down Tommy’s cheeks. 

~~~~

It took far too long for Niki’s trial. Five hours total, with Sam seething in his seat. He barely took in any information, only able to see Tommy’s blood covered face in his mind every time he looked at Niki. Tommy had to give his statement, something Sam was vehemently against. Tommy lost a lot of progress in his emotional healing, and Sam hated to see his boy’s hands shaking on the stand as he stumbled over his words. 

When he got back to his seat besides Sam, he linked his hand in with Sam’s as soon as he could. Sam squeezed the I-love-you pattern, and took pride in watching Tommy’s shoulder untense just a little. 

Escorting Niki into a cell in his prison was another thing he took pride in. 

“I’m sorry,” She had whispered. “I’m really sorry.” 

Sam wanted to snarl at her that it didn’t matter. He wanted to scream at her that she hurt someone who trusted her, thought of her as a sister and that her apologies were worth shit. It wasn’t true, though. It did matter, just not to him. “I’m not the one who you need to apologize to.” 

“I know. But I don’t think he wants to see me,” Niki muttered. 

Sam took a deep breath. “If he says something, I won’t stop him.” The thing is, Tommy most certainly would want to see her. Either for closure, an explanation, or to forgive her, because his son is like that. Way too willing to forgive. And it’s not Sam’s place to keep him from that. As much as he thinks of Tommy as his kid, he doesn’t actually have any authority over Tommy. 

The cell door closes, and Niki sits herself on the provided carpet in the corner. Sam hovers for a moment around the outside. “He loved you, you know. I don’t know the full story, but I think at one point in time you deserved that love. And if he forgives you, you will have to prove to both of us that you deserve it again.” 

~~~~

Sam knocks on the door to Tommy’s room. “Tommy? I have something for you.” 

“Leave it by the door?” Tommy sounds shaky. It’s one of those days.

“Ok,” Sam agrees. 

He puts his present down in the side with the door handle so Tommy can grab it without having to leave the room all the way, and makes sure to make his footsteps away clear and obvious. 

He heard the door open and close. 

Tommy comes out for lunch, putting his weight on his gift, a cane. Tommy complained of the crutches hurting his arms after a while and eventually Sam knew he would have to bring up resetting his leg, but for now, the cane would have to do. If Tommy starts complaining about his leg hurting, they’d talk about what Tommy wanted to do. 

“Do you like it?” Sam asks. He sets a plate down with some rabbit on it. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

“I don’t know,” Tommy says, his voice raspy. “I like it, it’s a thoughtful gift. I don’t like that I need it.” 

“Thank you for your honesty,” Sam praises. He knows Tommy struggles with not lying to appease people he’s close too. “It’s ok to have conflicting feelings about it. I wouldn’t have been mad if you didn’t like it entirely.” 

“I know,” Tommy mumbles into his food. There’s a silent  _ I trust you _ following his admission. 

“Got any plans for the week?”

Tommy’s eyes dart to the side and suddenly he looks very nervous. 

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Will you at least be safe during your plans?” 

“I want to see Dream one last time,” he says slowly, meeting Sam’s eyes. 

Sam almost chokes on his coffee. He clears his throat. “I’m not saying you're not allowed to, but are you sure?” 

Tommy tilts his head to the side and picks at his food. “I just want some closure. It’s something Puffy and I have been talking about.” 

Puffy started offering therapy and Sam and Tommy had a long talk about whether Tommy wanted therapy or not. Tommy was reluctant, but not entirely opposed. He went once, just to try it out and then just kept going back. 

“I’m gonna tell him he can’t do anything to me anymore. Tell him he has no power over me,” Tommy continues. His voice is hard and eyes are far away, like he’s imagining standing in the prison. 

“That’s a good idea,” Sam agrees. “When do you want to go?” 

“Today. I just want to fucking get it over with.” Tommy stabbed the bit of meat. “If that’s ok, of course. Like if you’ve got the time.” 

Sam sips his coffee, the last few dredges being cold and overly sweet. “I’ve always got time for you, Tommy. Especially with important things like this.” 

“Don’t want to be an inconvenience,” Tommy says simply. 

“You’re not. Ever,” Sam reassures. “We can go after lunch is done, if you’d like.” 

Tommy nods once. 

~~~~

Sam is not expecting a fucking security breach to happen while Tommy confronts Dream. His whole chest is tight and pinched and  _ painful _ because he finally got the security breach under control. Someone tried to break the walls with TnT. He never found out who. 

Ultimately it had been four days until Sam had secured the prison again. It would have been longer but Sam couldn’t sleep knowing Tommy was in there and he had no way of protecting his son. He worked day and night repairing the damage to the prison, and rewiring the redstone. 

The second he got done with repairs he was racing through the staff only passages and lowering the lava. He’s never been so impatient about the sheets of lava slowly lowering in his life. Sam rides the bridge over, thanking to any god out there that Tommy decided to rest himself on the other side of the netherite blocks. He keeps his eyes on Dream as he hooks Tommy’s arms over his shoulders and his hands under the poor kids legs.

Tommy is shaking, clutching onto Sam’s sweatshirt from under his armor. He pulls Tommy closer as he steps back onto the bridge. Dream’s eyes never leave the pair, the deep bags underneath them making him look hollow. 

The moment the lava is down, Sam sinks to his knees and grabs Tommy’s hand to squeeze out an I-love-you. Tommy barely reacts, just letting tears flow down his face and shaking harder. He pushes away from Sam, leaning over to dry heave against the cool obsidian floor. 

Sam let’s him go, gently standing to bring the lava back down. Tommy’s hand snatches his ankle and holds tight to the stiff guard uniform pants. 

“Ok, I won’t leave,” Sam says softly. He picks his son up again, letting Tommy rest his head in the crook of Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s hoodie is wet with his kid’s tears in seconds and it breaks his heart. 

Once the lava is down, he takes Tommy through the guard’s tunnels and out to the front of the prison. Tommy sobs harder when they stop moving. 

“It’s ok, you’re safe, Tommy.” Sam keeps up the steady stream of comfort as he guide’s Tommy’s hand to the ender chest, and presses it to the eye under the latch until it clicks and opens. He collects the locker key and gathers Tommy’s stuff, letting it sink into his kid’s inventory before moving on.

Tommy clutches harder at his shirt. The hard netherite armor he has to wear as the warden must be digging uncomfortably into Tommy’s front. He feels a bit bad, but he is required to wear his armor within the prison walls and with Tommy clinging to him like a baby monkey it would be difficult to even get boots off. 

“Wanna go home?” Sam murmurs into Tommy’s hair. “My base, I mean. I bet Fran would love to say hi.” 

Tommy nods. Sam’s arms hurt by the time he sets Tommy in his bed. He stays with Tommy for the night, sitting leaning up against the bed, his hand clenched in Tommy’s, who refused to let go, even after he fell asleep. Fran is practically laying on top of Tommy, happily snoozing away on her second favorite person in the world. 

~~~~ 

“Saaaaaam,” Tommy whines. “What’d you mean I can’t work on the hotel today?” 

“I’m taking a day off, you should to,” Sam says from his couch. He’s still in pajamas, and he probably still will be up until dinner, in which he will change into another set of pajamas. If all goes well today, that is. 

Tommy slumps. “I don’t want to!” 

“Then you're free to go do what you do when you’re not working on the hotel. Or you can stay here,” Sam offers. 

“But I want to do something. I don’t know what,” Tommy admits, pulling a face. 

Sam eyes him for a moment. He’s fidgiting a bit, playing with his fingers and the tip of his cane. Tommy’s posture is shit as usual, not tense like he is when he’s incredibly anxious. Sam knows Tommy has hardly left the base in the past 3 weeks since he got out of the prison. He only leaves to work on the hotel when Sam leaves to do the same. So, Tommy must be restless. 

“You can walk Fran if you want to,” Sam suggests. “And I’m sure Tubbo wouldn’t mind a visit. You don’t have to leave, though. A day off doesn’t mean I don’t do anything.” 

Tommy narrows his eyes. “Well then what do you do?” 

Sam shrugs “Redstone repairs, mostly. Any cleaning that needs to get done. Sometimes I visit Ponk but with the… egg, I shouldn’t be doing that anymore.” 

“Can you teach me more redstone?” Tommy’s eyes light up with excitement. “I’ll help with cleaning if you do.” 

“I’d be happy to teach you more, even if you don’t actually want to help me clean.” 

~~~~ 

Tommy goes back to therapy again after a month and a half of basically shadowing Sam. After one session, he leaves Puffy’s little work office looking far more contemplative than a 16 year old should. Sam expects Tommy to be quiet for a good few hours when he looks this way. He expects his kid to be a bit on autopilot, stuck in his thoughts as they turn over and over. It’s not easy being a teen having gone through so much, and Sam can’t understand half the things that go through Tommy’s head on a daily basis. 

“Sam?” Tommy asks, surprising Sam for a moment. “Why.. Why am I a child when it’s convenient?” 

Sam furrows his brows. He’s not sure he’s qualified to answer, or if he really has an answer. It’s a tough question and not one Sam saw coming. Apparently he takes too long to answer because Tommy starts rambling, like he has to elaborate. 

“Puffy told me it’s not normal for adults to think like that. That it’s not my fault when they do. But why me? Why me and Tubbo? Why are we children when it’s convenient to others?” 

Sam swallows roughly. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say I know. You are children, you and Tubbo. I don’t know what goes on in other people’s heads, but I think it has something to do with how high everyone’s expectations are for you. And Tubbo. You especially though.” 

“But why though?” 

“You don’t act like kids. I mean, you do, all the time, but I think other people see it as the two of you indulging in being kids, as if you aren’t entitled to act like a kid normally. It’s not your fault though, you’re allowed to be mature and act older than you are. And you're certainly allowed to be a kid if you choose to, that’s not an indulgence. It’s not your fault that people forget you’re actually sixteen,” Sam offers. “It’s their problem if they think you’re ‘old enough’ to hold the weight of the world.” 

Tommy nods. “Can I have a hug?” 

Sam opens his arms and smiles. “Always.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation, now with more Tubbo and Fundy
> 
> Edited to properly credit a fanfiction that inspired how i wrote a specific character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I have some major notes to do for this.  
> A) I suck at writing Fundy but he deserves love  
> B) Crafting works like this: there are set crafting recipes that make crafting item quick and easy, any item outside of the standard crafting recipe can be made, but it’s not like the magic’s, line-up-your-stuff shit crafting tables can do.  
> C) There will be more, I just realized I was another 5000-ish words into this chapter and no where near my goal of A dadza vrs. awesamdad show down  
> D) this is not edited in the SLIGHTEST, and fuck canon all my homies hate canon.  
> E) This chapter Does Not take place Directly after the last one. This chapter starts out before it but I think i make the time line pretty clear.

Tommy was always sick as a small child. He got colds what seemed like every two weeks, and more than his fair share of doctors visits. When Phil was still around it was easier to deal with, easier to breathe even with his perpetually stuffy nose. Phil was Papa back then, large calloused hands that tickled instead of war hardened palms that hurt. Tommy barely remembers that far back, just flashes. He remembers far more of the time when Wilbur took care of him while Phil was gone. 

Wilbur was a very anxious teen, even ‘barely old enough to recognize that people around him also had feelings’ Tommy could see the way his hands would shake at everything that didn’t go perfect. There were days where Wilbur wouldn’t get out of bed unless Tommy came and got him, and eventually those days faded into Tommy making himself breakfast, and then it was breakfast and lunch, and then all three meals. Wilbur tried his absolute best, but he was barely 13 when Phil left for the first time, and Tommy was still a toddler. 

Eventually Phil stopped coming back, and that’s when Wilbur suggested moving. They’d spent years on their own at that point, holding out for Phil and Techno to return eventually. When the realization that they weren’t coming back came in the form of a newspaper headline about the ‘New Country Led by Legendary Philza Minecraft’ graced their doorstep, Wilbur decided they were moving. At first it was to the new country, The Antarctic Empire, as it was called. Tommy was twelve. All he really remembers is how cold it was, and how often he wasn’t allowed outside because of his immune system. 

He also remembers Wilbur bringing a baby home, one with fluffy ears too big for his head. Wilbur explained the Tommy was now an uncle, and that this little bundle of fur was Fundy, Wilbur’s child. Tommy was at that age where most kids think babies are gross, but he knew enough to not say anything to Wilbur (Fundy not only grew in height, but also on Tommy as well). 

For Tommy’s health, they headed for warming climates, the Dream SMP. They picked up Tubbo on the way, living in a dirty box in an ally way. Tommy had never had a friend before, living remotely for the better part of his life, and then confined inside due to weather. Tubbo was everything Tommy wanted in a friend, and it became near impossible to separate them. 

The four of them reached SMP lands within the year. 

~~~~ 

Sam has long been an observer. It’s become his thing, with his job as the Warden being to protect the SMP from the dangers in his vault. He needs eyes and ears open for that. He considers himself a great judge of character and adept at reading people. 

Tommy’s face on this sunny afternoon is a book written in a different language. His eyes say anxious but his general body language says dread. He’s pressing harder on his cane, face tense. It’s not uncommon for Tommy to be tense, or anxious, but the dread is new. His son very much likes to choose determination over dread. A ‘let’s get this done’ attitude more than a ‘i don’t want to think about it’ one. 

Sam waits for Tommy to approach him, the tap of his walking cane steady against the wood. “Can’t believe it’s finally done.” 

The hotel is impressive. There’s room for more floors, room for more accommodations. It’s Tommy’s signature red, with mixed in wooden tones to break up the grey and red. It looks professional. 

“Do you like it?” Sam asks. 

“I fucking love it, Sam Nook. Good work.” Tommy grins earnestly. “Grand opening in a week or so, yeah?” 

“It’s honestly ready now, but I figured you’d want to hand out invitations, so I left the front doors locked. It’s entirely up to you when you open,” Sam explains, fishing out a set of keys. “If you need some employees I can help you with the hiring process.” 

“I was thinking of more of a courtesy system. You stay, you don’t have to pay as long as you clean your room when you leave,” Tommy offers. The keys jingle in his hands as he fiddles with them. “That way really anybody can stay if they need it.” 

“Makes sense. Just be sure to get the poor across that it’s an honor system, and that there will be consequences for not being honorable,” Sam says. 

Tommy sighs dramatically. “Fine, _dad_.” He pauses. “Still can’t believe it’s finally here. The Big Innit Hotel.” 

“Feels good, doesn’t it? I always feel great after finishing a long project.” 

Tommy is quiet after that. Sam doesn’t push, his kid knows he’s there if he needs it. They work on writing invitations for hours. Sam handles the repetitive ones, the more personalized ones go to Tommy to write. They put a random music disc into a jukebox Tommy brought with him and just chill, the scratch of quills accompanying the soft opening notes of Mall. 

“Fuck,” Tommy curses. 

Sam glances over. Tommy’s hands are shaking and there’s a scribbled line running across one of the pages. The handwriting progressively gets worse the further down the page Sam skims. It’s only perfect on the name, _Philza_. 

“Hand me another page, yeah?” Tommy asks, crumpling that one into a ball. 

Sam reaches over to the stack. “You don’t have to invite Philza, not if you don’t want to.” 

“I do, Sam, I do. Just… What if he doesn’t like it? What if he… what if he’s not proud?” Tommy admits quietly. 

“Then he’s not very wise for an old guy,” Sam jokes. “If he isn’t proud of you, then you should be proud of yourself. You’ve got a lot to be proud of. Not just the hotel, you’ve made a lot of progress as well.” 

“You’re too wholesome, Sam. I am proud of myself. I just want Phil to be proud too, you know?” 

“Validation.” Sam nods. 

“Exactly. Now, enough of this feelings shit, let’s get this fucking done.” Tommy smiles. 

~~~~ 

“I’m guessing you want to deliver these yourself?” Sam asks. It’s a dreary morning, clouded and the air smells heavily of impending rain. 

“Yeah,” Tommy says, stuffing the invitations into his inventory. The hotel stands behind them, a bright beacon against the grey sky. He looks like he’s about to leave even though he just got here. “It’s gonna take me all day, don’t expect me back until late.” 

“Breakfast first, Tommy.” Sam pulls bread and oatmeal from his inventory and offers them to the teen. “And make sure you either eat lunch, bring it with you or stop somewhere for it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Jesus, you really are acting like a parent,” Tommy snarks. He takes the food anyway. “Thanks, _dad_.” 

Sam crosses his arms. “The more you say it, the less sarcastic you sound.” 

“Well, it’s your fault for being so ‘dad’-ly, bitch,” Tommy shoots back in between bites of food. 

Sam snorts. “I could be worse. I could tell you bedtime is 11 o’clock and that I expect you home for dinner. I could give you so many chores, Tommy, so many chores.” 

“You wouldn’t.” Tommy sounds appalled but the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise. 

The sky rumbles ominously and the first few drops of rain begin to fall. Fat droplets of water hit the prime path audibly. Thank god for hard hats, Sam thinks to himself. It would suck to be out in this unprotected. Tommy starts rummaging around in his inventory, pulling out a long, brown coat before going back to sorting his items. 

“Keep yourself safe out there. I trust you to look after yourself, but if you need me, I’m one whisper away, ok?” Sam says. 

“Of course, Dad,” Tommy says absentmindedly. 

Something warm blooms in Sam’s chest. There’s not an ounce of sarcasm or playful ridicule in Tommy’s voice. For a second he wants to believe that Tommy thinks of him as his dad as much as Sam thinks of Tommy as his son. 

~~~~ 

He was going to kill Jack Manifold. Sam couldn’t understand what the hell was his problem. Tommy’s trapped, something Sam is trying desperately to fix that, and Jack just goes and pulls this shit. Jack messed with the sign, and took over the hotel. Jack didn’t even work for Tommy, he had no right to come and take over his son’s hard work, the physical embodiment of the kindness he’s scared to show. 

Sam is going to fix this, right after he gets his son out. And then he’s going to go have a serious talk with Jack and smack some sense into him. There’s no way he’s letting Jack’s antics escalate, Tommy already didn’t trust Jack and Sam will not jeopardize his son’s happiness for the sake of not making another enemy. 

He can excuse the rival motel, it’s run by Tubbo, who would never intentionally do anything to hurt Tommy. Tubbo is also still a kid, and doesn’t make Tommy incredibly uncomfortable. He’s aware of what makes Tommy nervous and some friendly competition with a trusted friend certainly isn’t that. 

Jack on the other hand is being a bitch while both Sam and Tommy can’t keep him in check, and Sam won’t stand for it. 

~~~~ 

Tommy’s first day out of the prison is tough. He refuses to let Sam out of his sight, which isn’t a problem, Sam doesn’t mind. It’s just kind of creepy how quiet Tommy is. When the night comes, Tommy is almost inconsolable, speaking for the first time that day to stumble over his pleas for Sam not to leave him alone for the night. 

“Tommy, it’s ok, I’m not going anywhere,” Sam assures, loosely enclosing Tommy in his arms. “Why don’t we have a sleepover? You can drag your bedding and sleep on the couch and I’ll take the arm chair. We can even call over Tubbo, if you want.” 

“I want Tubbo, please,” Tommy hastily says. 

“Alright, do you want to message him or should I?” 

“I’ll, I’ll do it.” 

Sam nods and releases Tommy from his loose embrace, making sure not to step back in case Tommy needs to lean on him or thinks he’s leaving. “Hot coco too?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Has Tubbo ever had hot chocolate?” Sam asks gently, seating Tommy down on the couch. The kitchen is within sight of the couch so Sam slowly makes his way in to start working on the drink, getting out a pot and the coco powder. 

“I dunno. M-Maybe? He lives in a cold place, so he-he might,” Tommy answers. 

“Well, hopefully he likes it,” Sam muses to himself. “It’s hard not to like hot coco. He isn’t allergic to anything, right?” 

“N-nah. No-not that I know of.”

“Good. Is tonight an icecream night too, or just coco?” Icecream nights are for the worsts of anxiety or when Tommy has himself convinced he doesn’t deserve nice things. They’d been less frequently for those reasons up until this point. Less of a pick-me-up and more of just a sweet treat. 

Tommy hums. “I don’t think so. Unless Tubbo wants some icecream, I don’t think I need it.” 

“I’ll ask when he gets here,” Sam assures. 

“He said he’ll be here as soon as he can.” 

Sam bobs his head to nod. A comfortable silence follows, the sounds of stirring and the flames creating a soft ambience. It’s nice, and probably even nicer for Tommy. 

It’s not long before Tubbo shows up, and the three of them set up blankets and pillows on the ground. Sam comes up with an idea as the two boys fall asleep talking softly. It’s something that he hopes will make sure Tommy is safe and never alone when he needs Sam. 

Glancing over at Tommy’s resting face, he briefly wonders if he should start looking into adoption papers as well as blueprints. 

~~~~

This project is going to take Sam months at the best projected time line he’s created. He has zero expertise in robotics. Redstone is a whole different thing even if they both make use of the red dust. It’s a big project to take on, he’ll be mining for resources for ages, and then hand making parts since crafting recipes don’t exist for half the things he needs. 

He helps Tommy open his hotel, setting up the front room for the grand opening while Tommy gets rooms fully ready. Sam’s mind is far away, in his work station back home. In his head he’s constructing and deconstructing parts methodically. Cooling fans for the electronics, redstone wires, circuit boards and code. He’s going to have to talk to someone about the coding part, it’s another one of those things he’s not the best at. He wants this project to be the best. 

“Hey, Sam,” Tommy greets as he descends the ladders. “All done with the rooms.” 

“I’m almost done here. We just have to go pick up the printed pamphlets from Ranboo and Tubbo.” 

Tommy nods. “Can we stop for lunch? Maybe the Mcdonald’s looking place just down the path?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Sam says. He’s still mildly distracted by his project ideas. “You know you deserve the best, right Tommy?” 

“Don’t get all sappy and shit on me again, Sam. This is like the fifth time this week!” Tommy protests. His cheeks are red though, and he won’t meet Sam’s eyes. 

Sam’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry.” 

Tommy half-heartedly waves his apology away. “Come on, let’s get a fucking move on, I’m hungry.” 

~~~~

Fundy comes over on a day that Tommy is out as per Sam’s request. He doesn’t want Tommy asking questions about why Fundy is coming over and ruining the surprise, so when he leaves to spend the day at Snowchester with Tubbo, Sam gives Fundy the go ahead to make his way to Sam’s house. 

He meets Fundy outside of his base’s door, inviting him in. His favorite part about his giant redstone door is probably seeing people’s faces as they watchthe door lower for the first time. 

“That is… How did you build this?” Fundy marvels. “I thought only creative servers had this type of stuff.” 

“Hard work and resource grinding,” Sam answers honestly. It took him a good few hours to get enough slime balls for just the slime blocks. The honey blocks and the rest of the redstone took him days. 

Fundy steps into the base with his eyes still trained on the redstone mechanism beneath his feet. “I’m guessing you need my help with something that isn’t redstone?” 

“You’ve done code before, right? I’m working on a project that’s gonna take some serious coding. I don’t have the skills necessary to do that,” Sam explains. “Here, I’ll show you what I’m working on, just as long as you don’t tell Tommy.” 

Fundy raises an eyebrow. “Why can’t I tell Tommy?” 

Sam guides him into his personal work room. “Because it’s a gift for him. A surprise gift, I mean.” 

On the table is a metal shape, with wires sticking out of it’s chest leading to a circuit board which in turn is connected to a computer. The robot is about the same size as Sam and clearly in his likeness, with the addition of a tail (lying on the table, yet to be attached) and round ears poking out of it’s head.

It’s creepy without all the fine detailing Sam still has to put on. The ears stick out on stubs too far to make sure they poke out of the hair Sam is going to attach. The face is just a frame at the moment, the actual outside of the face is off on another table. He just hopes Tommy won’t be freaked out by it once it’s done. 

It’s supposed to be a protector for Tommy. One he can take anywhere he wants to who can watch over him when Sam either physically can’t or is stuck working in the prison. He’s affectionately named it Sam Nook, after his persona he plays for Tommy. It’s intended to be a comfort to Tommy and one more persuasive measure against people who might want to hurt his son. 

Fundy whistles through his teeth, pulling Sam out of his thoughts. “That,” He starts. “That is really fucking creepy right now.” 

“I know, I know. I still have a lot of work to do, I just wanted to get a head start on the coding so I know what pieces I need to make sure move correctly.” 

Fundy eyes him. “You want me to do the coding? You seriously trust me with that? This… this is like, a magnum opus piece. You sure you want to take the chance at screwing it up by working with _me_?” 

For a moment Fundy’s tone reminds Sam of Tommy’s, when he thinks he doesn’t deserve things, or that he’s gonna make a mistake and make people mad. Sam doesn’t know too much about Fundy, but he does know that he’s not too dissimilar to Tommy in terms of how people hurt him. Sam’s heart twinges. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this.” 

Fundy’s ears flick like he doesn’t believe him. “I’m not an admin, you know? I can’t do all the crazy shit some of them can do.” 

“That’s fine. Nook doesn’t need to do crazy shit. He just needs to protect Tommy when he asks for it and be a source of comfort when I can’t be,” Sam explains. 

“So that’s why it’s for Tommy.” Fundy’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. He brings a hand to rub at his chin, eyeing Nook critically. “It might take a while, but I’ll do it. This is the most advanced project I’ll have ever worked on, and I’ve worked on holograms, so that’s saying something.” 

“That’s fine, he’s still a long way from done physically, anyways. I can pay you almost anything you’d like,” Sam offers. 

“Let’s talk about what you want from Nook first,” Fundy starts with. 

Sam nods. “What are your thoughts on A.I.?” 

~~~~

_Tommyinnit: SAAAAAM_

_Tommyinnit: SAM SAM SAM HELP_

_Tommyinnit: SNOWCHESTER, NOW_

_Tommyinnit: PLEASE_

_Tommyinnit: SAAAAM_

_Awesamdude: Omw_

He expects bloodshed and fighting and possible death when he tridents his way to Snowchester. Not Tubbo sitting on Tommy’s back, both of them shouting at each other.

“What’s wrong? Who’s hurt?” He butts in. 

“Saaaam! Tell Tubbo he’s being a dickhead! And tell him to get off!” Tommy shouts. 

Tubbo crosses his arms, “Tell Tommy he’s an idiot and being suicidal.” 

Sam’s brows pinch together. “What’s going on?” 

Tommy starts yelling before Tubbo slaps his hand over Tommy’s mouth the best he can from his spot. “Tommy wants to go see Technoblade. I told him that’s a dumb idea. He won’t listen to me. He’ll listen if it’s you telling him that, though.” 

Tommy must have licked Tubbo’s hand or something else gross because Tubbo pulls it back with a shriek. “I did not say that! I said I wondered how Techno and Phil were doing! I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t go! Get off me, I’m cold!” 

“Ok. Ok. First of all, next time you send a message like that Tommy please let me know it’s not an emergency, I almost had a heart attack. Second of all, Tubbo get off him. He’s not wearing snow clothes. Third of all, If Tommy wants to visit Technoblade I’d recommend taking and adult with him just in case.” 

Tubbo pouts, but slowly gets off of Tommy and helps him up. Tommy glares at Tubbo, “See? Sam knows logic and shit. Besides, I don’t want to visit _Technoblade_ , I want to visit Phil.” 

“But, Tommy, why?” Tubbo whines. “We’ve talked about this, You don’t owe Phil shit.” 

Sam starts herding them inside Tubbo’s house. Micheal squeals from inside his ‘room’ (cage) when he sees Sam, much to Sam’s embarrassment. 

“Just because Phil might not care for me doesn’t make him not my dad,” Tommy snarls. 

“Uhh, yeah, it kind of does?” Tubbo argues. “Like, number one rule of being a parent is caring about your child.” 

“What would you know, box boy?” 

“Uncalled for!” 

“Boys,” Sam interjects. “Calm down. You both make good points. Yes, parents are supposed to care about their kids. And if Tommy still thinks of Phil as his father, that’s not wrong of him to do so.” 

“But Phil is literally the worst dad on the server,” Tubbo chimes in. 

“I think he’s the only dad on the server now that Wil is gone,” Tommy adds. 

Tubbo glances over at Sam before back to Tommy. “I disagree. Family isn’t always related.” 

“Ok, yeah, but who else is stepping up to plate to be a father to _anyone_ on this server.” Tommy snarks, rubbing his arms. 

Sam pulls off his coat and offers it to Tommy, who gives him the barest hint of a smile and a short, crisp nod. 

“Puffy,” Tubbo says. 

“Puffy’s a woman.” 

“Fine then. Sam,” Tubbo says. 

Sam looks up from playfully pushing Tommy’s head into the neck of the coat, “Yeah?” 

“You’re like Tommy’s dad, now, right?” 

Tommy chokes on air beside him while Sam starts turning a bit red. He didn’t expect anyone else to really notice how much he cares for Tommy. “I mean. Yeah, I guess. If Tommy wants me to be his dad, then I don’t mind.” 

Tommy just buries his face in his hands. “You’re ridiculous, the lot of you. I already have a dad.” 

“Yeah? Well he’s shit at his job, then,” Tubbo says. “You deserve a better Dad. Like Sam.” 

“Tubbo, shut the fuck up. What do you think Phil would say if he knew I was thinking of Sam as my dad?” Tommy asks, glaring again at Tubbo. 

Sam gently fluffs Tommy’s hair. “You could ask him. If I could adopt you, I mean. If he would let me adopt you. I could adopt you too, Tubbo. If you wanted.” 

“Sure, but I’m not asking Phil for permission.” Tubbo scrunches his nose up. “You could take him to court if he refuses under the grounds of child abandonment and child neglect, if he says no to letting you adopt Tommy.” 

“Woah woah woah, slow down, _I_ haven’t even decided if I want to adopted again yet. You guys are moving way too fast,” Tommy cuts in. “Sure, I think Sam is the best adult I’ve ever met, who actually acknowledges that I’m allowed to be a kid, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want him to be my dad.” Tommy’s eyes flick to him and he ducks his head apologetically. “No offense, Sam.” 

“It’s ok. It’s really not a decision you make in one day,” Sam says. “I figure I’d put the idea out there. I can also try and help you repair your relationship with your actual dad if you’d prefer that.” 

Tommy crosses his arms under Sam’s coat. “I’m not sure I want that either, Phil is a dick who blew up my home.” 

“Then why would you even want to know how he’s doing?” Tubbo asks. “I don’t wonder what Schlatt is doing in the afterlife.” 

“Well, Schlatt can’t hurt you when he’s dead, Phil might be planning something,” Tommy argues. 

Tubbo sighs deeply. “Those words prove that Phil doesn’t deserve to be your dad.” 

“Tubbo,” Sam says slowly. “Whether or not Phil deserves it, Tommy’s feelings about him are valid and deserve recognition. It’s neither of our places to tell him what to feel. It’s nobody’s place to do that.” Damn, Puffy would be proud of him for saying that so well. “If Philza still wants to be Tommy’s dad, or even still cares for him, Tommy has the right to know and decide what to feel about it.” 

“I know, I just…” Tubbo’s shoulders droop. “I don’t want you to get hurt again, Tommy. I know how much you admire both Techno and Phil. And I don’t want you to be heartbroken if they don’t feel the same. Because they should, you’re awesome.” 

Tommy smiles wide at that, looking satisfied and smug. “Damn right I am. I don’t need their admiration, I’ve got my best friend to follow me around and say nice things about me always, don’t I, Tubbo?” 

“I mean, maybe not always-“ 

“Hey!”

“-You can be a dick sometimes.” 

Tommy scoffs, “So can you, you know. A real asshole, you are.” 

Sam leans against the wall as they dissolve into arguing again, more banter and insults than any heavy topic. He’ll have to ask Eret about how the adoption papers work next time he sees them around. 

~~~~

Fundy gives Sam a thumbs up from across the room. Everything’s all set for the first test run of Nook. The coding’s finished beyond the debugging that comes after this first start up. The body is all built and wired correctly (he triple checked), and most noteably, Tommy is spending the night at Tubbo’s. Everything’s in place. 

He sits Nook up, accessing the panel in his back with a special key. Only he and Tommy will have a key, a safety measure to ensure no one turns Nook off without the express permission of Sam, Tommy and Nook himself. Fundy designed a learning A.I. for the robot. The closest thing to true A.I. they could get with their combined skills. Nook technically still has to follow his main directives (Protect Tommy. Comfort Tommy) but he’s free to make decisions based on situation to situation. 

He’s installed a database of mental health care for Nook to use at will. Facial recognition was incredibly difficult to code but they stole the basics from the security cameras and modified it to include recognizing emotions. Nook will learn more the more active he is, as well. There’s oodles of free storage space for what he will learn.

Sam hopes that once he’s up and running he can teach Nook to be kind above all else and avoid literally every A.I. movie ending. He wants Nook to be soft, and like a big brother. He pushes in an activation code and watches for any signs of ‘life’. 

Nothing. 

“Are you sure you used the right code?” Fundy muses. 

“I think so. I have it memorized,” Sam mutters, focusing on Nook’s face.

“Well, if he’s on, he’s not showing it. The signal he’s sending to the computer doesn’t show anything either. He’s not running any programs, including the wake up one,” Fundy informs him. 

“Ok, I’m gonna put in the deactivation code just in case and check the wiring,” Sam says, his hand moving to the keypad. He almost expects Nook’s hand to shoot up and stop him from deactivating him but nothing happens. He puts the code in and lays Nook back down. 

“He registered the deactivation code, but since he technically wasn’t ‘on’ he didn’t do anything. I’ll double check my wake up code while you look at the wiring,” Fundy says. 

Sam opens up the chest plate with a screwdriver and pulls out the connection wiring to give to Fundy, who hooks it up to the computer. It’s quiet as the two of them fuss over different parts of Nook. Fran is out with Tommy today, instead of in her usual dog bed in the workroom, so the sounds of her snoring aren’t there today. 

Sam finds a single screw that holds one of the connective wires to one button is slightly loose, so the pressure from the button isn’t actually being registered. “Found it. Loose screw. He didn’t register the activation code because technically it wasn’t the right code.” 

“Makes sense. I didn’t find anything wrong with the code yet, so I think we’re good at the moment for test two,” Fundy says. 

They disconnect Nook from the computer, moving the connection back to wireless, and Sam closes the chest plate, screwing it back in place. He inputs the activation code with bated breath. 

Nook’s eyes light up. 

“Hi,” Sam says softly. 

“Holy shit, it worked,” Fundy mutters off to the side. 

The gas mask chirps out the Animal Crossing sounds and both their communicators vibrate. 

HELLO AWESAMDUDE AND FUNDY. I AM SAM NOOK. 

~~~~

Fundy is waiting outside Sam’s base when Tommy leaves that day. Tommy can’t help but be suspicious, because he knows Sam is hiding something from him and it has something to do with Fundy. 

“Oi, dickhead. What are you doing here?” Tommy calls out to him. 

Fundy turns and Tommy stiffens (having momentarily forgotten that this is an adult, who could hurt him). Fundy looks surprised to see him. “Uhhh, I’m waiting for Sam?” 

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “You seem to be doing that a lot lately. Why?” 

“Reasons,” Fundy. “I don’t have to tell you anything.” 

“Asshole.” 

Sam opens the big door once again and calls Fundy inside. Tommy watches him go, eyes narrowed. Sam is hiding something, and it’s making his stomach roll. The familiar hum of anxiety in the back of his mind twisting what he’s sure is just Sam working on a project, like he said he was. 

_But what if he’s not? He’s picking Fundy over you an awful lot._

This particular internal monologue sounds like Dream. It makes it both easy and difficult to deal with. Dream was his friend, at some point. He had enough care not to outright murder Tommy in the prison. ‘Attachments’ he’d said, when Tommy asked why he still cared. 

Puffy has been helping him realize that Dream’s attachment to him doesn’t mean he owes him anything. It’s difficult, but most days it’s easier to get mad at Dream’s voice. Better that then when it’s his own. It takes twenty one days to make a habit, but a lifetime to break them. He has some dangerous habits when it comes to managing his self esteem. 

Tommy scowls in the direction of the door. Tubbo is smart, he’ll know what to make of this. And if doesn’t then today is therapy day anyways. 

~~~~

Almost every bug has been worked out, paint has been added where he wants, clothing has been sewn and put on. Calibration after calibration after calibration, and Sam Nook is finally standing. He’s a few inches shorter than Sam, a non intentional design choice that certainly makes him look younger. He has less green on him too, an intentional choice this time. There’s no way to mistake him for another green wearing server member who is… locked up at the moment. 

Sam has ensured that through the entire process that Nook is happy with how he looks. His A.I. allows for arbitrary choices like favorite color, preference of pattern, etc. are something that will inspire the robotic equivalent of the brains release of dopamine. Basically his code just says ‘good job!’ once he decides he likes something and makes the active choice to choose similar things. 

Nook is kind, very kind. He offers constantly to do things for Sam when he’s let out of the workroom. He got confused about what a dog was, but still loves Fran the best he can. Sam would liken Nook to one of those early risers who are always chipper where others aren’t, but Nook isn’t annoying about it so it’s not a perfect anology. 

Nook is programmed to be gentle when he needs to be, but he seems to go the extra mile when he can. At one point Sam was stressing about Nook’s hand locking up and Nook put his other hand Sam’s shoulder and told him taking a walk often helps with clearing the mind. 

He hopes that Tommy won’t hate him. It’s a possibility, since the kid hates to be coddled. Nook just has a way of making his suggestions sound less like coddling and more like common sense, so hopefully that helps. He might also find Nook creepy, which Sam would understand, it is basically a replica of Sam made specifically to basically trail after him like a lost puppy and help him with what he needs. He made Nook give off as little of the ‘uncanny valley’ effect as he could to try and help with that. 

He’s just waiting for the final debugging and the go ahead from Fundy to set Nook loose around his base. When Tommy gets home he’ll introduce the two. 

“Ok, he’s all good. If he has any issues in the future, let me know,” Fundy instructs. 

“Stay here with Nook for a moment please. I’ll go grab the payment.” Sam heads out the door, turning on the threshold to face Fundy. “Thank you, Fundy. Honestly. I appreciate all the help you’ve done and I couldn’t have gotten Nook up and running without you.” 

Even though Fundy simply nods in reply with almost no emotion, his rapidly wagging tail gives his happiness away. Once again Sam is reminded that Fundy has constantly been underestimated, under praised and outright ignored in some cases. 

Sam makes sure to pay him a little extra along with a ‘you’re welcome to visit whenever’. Fundy leaves with a smile on his face. 

HELLO AWESAMDUDE, HOW ARE YOU TODAY? Nook warbles. Sam installed a small screen on Nook’s gas mask so he can display words there instead of sending a communicator message for privacy reasons. No need to broadcast every conversation he has to the entire server, especially if Tommy decides he trusts Nook enough to vent to him like he does sometimes with Sam. 

“Hey Nook. I’m good. Happy you’re finally finished.” 

I AM HAPPY AS WELL. WHEN WILL I BEGIN MY PRIMARY DIRECTIVE? 

“If Tommy is ok with you doing so, when he gets home.” 

AND IF HE IS NOT? 

“Then I guess I can Fundy over and you get to pick your own directive? In my eyes you’re a person, Nook, so if you end up really hating Tommy or Tommy doesn’t like you, I’m not gonna like, deactivate you.” 

I DON’T THINK I COULD HATE A CHILD. THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME. 

“You don’t have to thank me about that, Nook.” 

WELL, I STILL APPRECIATE THE ATTENTION TO DETAIL. I AM PERFECT FOR MY TASKS. 

Nook is also designed to be able to go anywhere, including the high security cell in which Dream resides, in case Tommy ever wants to go back and redo his final visit. Most of his outer components are iron with netherite supports, intended to take a beating if necessary and not break. The added layer of security of a tall, metal, nearly indestructible robot is honestly more for Sam’s comfort than Tommy’s. He’s never leaving Tommy alone in that goddamn cell ever again. 

“It’s the least I could do. You deserve to be safe as well, Nook.” 

He just hopes Tommy likes Sam Nook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam Nook was partially inspired by A Heart of Gears and Gold, by MarvelDreamer, found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29833260  
> I started writing my version of Sam Nook before I read this fic, but I hadn't actually written him being a person until after and this fic definitely shaped my idea of how he should act and think. Give it a read it's great. I didn't want to put it in the inspired by section mainly because it's not super influential on this story, just the character, but i don't want to yoink someone elses idea accidently because of my own headcanons influence by theirs, you know?
> 
> Also all of the fundy content is for my new favorite commenter; BrainsAnaylsis. they brought up the similarities between Tommy and Fundy and I took that and walked a short distance with it because i suck at writing fundy and could never do his intricate character justice. Forgive me BrainsAnaylsis.

**Author's Note:**

> Had fun writing this, proud of some of the dialogue. let me know what you thought of it.


End file.
